


Rents

by RetrobrandTerobrand



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst, M/M, Separation, Sparklings, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:57:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetrobrandTerobrand/pseuds/RetrobrandTerobrand
Summary: Warm lips gently scraped over his helm, before white fingers tilted his helm towards the tactician.Prowl didn’t smile, but his optics were amused, and his E.M field warm.“You really want to keep them, don’t you?”Jazz snorted, and tugged his conjunx closer to steal another kiss.“Obviously.”(In which two abanonded sparklings are found on the battlefield, and it’s the ‘Autobot duty’ to take them in.)





	Rents

The last thing Ratchet expected to see after sealing the leaking tear in Jazz’s internals was sparklings.

They were meant to be non-existent. Flushed out by the war- murdered and abandoned. No mech or femme was willing to carry for a full term, too paranoid about the consequences, or the ultimately short life their creation would live.

Jazz had attempted to scoop them up, but met a firm shove to the head before he could even get close to the two curled up, sobbing forms nestled in the ashen crystal crops.

They were a little older than newsparks, frail and unhealthy looking when Ratchet finally did manage to scoop them up and bring them to safety.

And despite his attempts to placate them, their squabbling continued to grow in decibels as the sun began to set. They didn’t calm with energon, or a soft hand cradling them.

Only the glowing crystals popping out of the charred ground provided them with a viable light source, soft on their optics, but not colorful enough to distract the sparklings from their sobbing.

Ratchet’s processor was throbbing from all the noise, overwhelmed and grumpy as he ran a finger over their protoforms, where streaks of white attacked the black. He frowned as another hiccuping sob escaped from the ting mouth of the sparkling with the little audial nubs. 

“This is from acid rain.”

Prowl paused, “What?”

They squirmed, trying to escape his gentle touches, optics glossy with tears.

“Those marks, they’re from acid rain.”

The Praxian peered at them, door wings flaring, but it only served to make the two scream even louder.

He sunk backwards, and settled his gaze on the horizon again, “We found them in the rubble, Ratchet.”

“Someone left them there.”

Blue eyes flickered to him, then to the sparklings again, “Or maybe their creators, or whoever was looking after them, were killed. It’s a war. And those are the first sparklings we’ve seen in- what? A million years?”

Ratchet pursed his lips sourly, but couldn’t bring himself to remove his gaze from the bitlets, ”So?”

Prowl remained quiet, settling to simper in his own field, as if the answer was obvious.

Ratchet knew it was. But if that was the case, mechs would come looking, and they didn’t have the supplies to fend off anything bigger than a scout squad.

“The Decepticons, then.”

The Praxian hummed distastefully, “Sure.”

He rocked them again, trying to calm their flailing arms and legs, but to no avail. Their purple optics would scrunch, mouths warbling before another wail pierced the quiet of the abandoned field. 

Their screeches had to have been putting a strain on their tiny vocalizers. 

Pain was already burning away at the acid marks all over their protoforms, and Ratchet didn’t want more strife added to their unstable condition. 

“Do you have a cooling blanket?” Ratchet asked absently, tickling a finger over the one he had dubbed ‘nubs’.

His tiny little audial stumps were admittedly adorable.

Something soft landed on his shoulder, and he tugged it down, pausing only to raise an optical ridge at the bold pattern.

Prowl scowled, “It’s Jazz’s.”

“Ah.”

The sparklings appreciated it nonetheless, cries finally settling into huffs and squeaks as Ratchet tucked the blankets around their little forms. 

The two observed them for a second, sparks swelling with pity at the two spilt sparks that had been ruthlessly abandoned in the middle of an active war zone.

“Who will take care of them?” Ratchet asked quietly. 

The sparklings were beginning to drift, optics fluttering tiredly. Nubs yawned, and grabbed at his brothers hand, fingers gripping at each other tightly.

“Jazz suggested that we could.”

Ratchet hiked an eyebrow, smirking slightly as the Praxian avoided eye contact. 

“And?”

“I will consider it. For now, I suppose they can stay with us.”

Ratchet snorted, but lifted the two snuggling sparklings and handed them to the tactician, “You’re not fooling anyone. You like them just as much as Jazz does.”

Nubs immediately smooshed his face against Prowl’s chest, pedes wiggling in the confines of the blanket.

“Yes, well, they are rather… cute.”

Prowl had a feeling Jazz wouldn’t let them give the two up to anyone else. His conjunx was going to spoil them, and get attached.

They’d be with them for a long while yet, if the excited squeal over his comms. was anything to go by. 

 

————

“Look at them!”

Prowl frowned, and leaned forward to gently push his conjunx back against the berth. 

“You’re injured, Jazz.”

“But they’re so cute.”

A black hand gestured vehemently at the sparklings- who had finally quieted after Ratchet applied cooling gel over their burns- and tickled at the small, squirming stomachs. “They’re adorable.” 

He leaned forward again to peer at them, optics bright with excitement. 

Their crying had stopped, but they still watched the two warily, frames snuggled closely and their hands tangled together in a ball of tiny fingers. 

Jazz was smitten. Prowl was still worried about where exactly the twins had come from.

A ball of comfort pulsed across their bond, before Jazz scooped the two up. He settled back against the berth, and tugged Prowl closer.

Nubs squawked, but was quickly silenced by a chaste kiss planted on his forehead by the saboteur.

“And they’re spilt sparks. I’ve never met a pair before.”

“They are quite cute,” Prowl agreed after a second, gently leaning into Jazz’s side. He peered down at them, and blinked when two sets of purple optics immediately stared back. 

Nubs squeaked excitedly, wiggling against Jazz’s chest to point at the space behind Prowl.

“I think they like you,” Jazz chuckled.

Prowl frowned, and flicked a doorwing. “I think they like my wings.”

Nub’s brother joined in, and offered a gentle churr, enamoured by the Praxian’s wings.

“First time seeing wings?”

Jazz scratched at his helm, “Naw, they’re looking at em’ like they’re something familiar. Maybe they were being taken care of by Praxians?”

Prowl’s forehead creased, face blank as he flicked his wing again.

It was highly unlikely, given that his city and the younglings in it had all been destroyed by the Decepticons. 

The sparklings squealed again, a significant change from their first reactions towards his wings. They were /happy/ for the first time since they’d found them.

“Or seekers,” Prowl muttered. 

“Why would seekers take care of a couple of grounders?” 

The tactician shrugged, and scooped Nubs from the corner of Jazz’s elbow. Nubs squirmed, fingers grasping for his brother until Prowl shuffled closer to Jazz.

“Just hop on the berth.”

“I am.”

Jazz snickered, and tugged at a doorwing until his conjunx settled beside him, sparkling comfortably cradled on his chest. 

Nubs giggled, wiggling until his cheek pressed against Prowl’s neck. His brother gurgled something nonsensical, hands patting gently at Jazz’s plating.

“You reckon the seekers would come back for them?” Jazz asked after a second, frowning slightly.

“They were left in the rubble, Jazz.”

“Could have been by accident,” He muttered, frowning slightly. “They still might return.” 

It was cruel of him to hope that they wouldn’t be coming back, that the sparkling were his now. 

They were most likely from neutrals, but if Prowl was correct in his assumption that they had been in the hands of the Decepticons, it would be much easier to refuse their return. 

Warm lips gently scraped over his helm, before white fingers tilted his helm towards the tactician.

Prowl didn’t smile, but his optics were amused, and his E.M field warm. 

“You really want to keep them, don’t you?” 

Jazz snorted, and tugged his conjunx closer to steal another kiss.

“Obviously.”

The middle of a war wasn’t the best time to raise two sparklings, but Jazz had always wanted to start a family. 

They’d be fine.

The two small forms between them were a comforting presence, a reminder of what the war had taken away, and what they had been missing out on.

Denta nibbled gently at his neck, scraping over an energon line before soft lips encased his own

“We’ll be fine,” Prowl agreed, spark pulsing over their bond. 

They were the second and third in command on the Autobot army, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so there is a a couple of places you can find me on :) (I love talking about headcanons and writing pls come chat) 
> 
> Discord: levitatetohell#6449  
> Twitter: pineappletohell  
> Tumblr (a sideblog): tfortransformertiddy


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